“I shall tell nothing!” retorted Mrs. Braxfield, “Nothing at all!—not one word!—until I’ve seen my solicitor, Mr. Crewe. I suppose you’ll not deny me the right of seeing him when I get to wherever you’re going to take me?” “You shall see Mr. Crewe within ten minutes of reaching Selcaster,” assented the Chief Constable. “I’ll give orders to that effect. My men here will see that you’re quite comfortable, and that you and Mr. Crewe have every facility you want—and I hope, Mrs. Braxfield, for your own sake, that by the time I get back to Selcaster you’ll have thought better of things and been more open and candid with your solicitor than you’ve been with me!” “That’s my business,” said Mrs. Braxfield. “I can do it without any advice from you. But—aren’t you going back now? Mr. Crewe’ll want you.” “Not at present,” said the Chief Constable. “You’ll go with my men—Mr. Blick and myself are now going to see Mr. Harry Markenmore.” Mrs. Braxfield stopped in her progress towards the cab. A curious look came into her eyes. “You’re not—not going to arrest him?” she whispered. “He——” “Just leave us to manage our own business, if you please, Mrs. Braxfield,” said the Chief Constable, “Step in!—you’ll be treated with every consideration, as you’ll see. Marshall!” he continued, turning to the man who had accompanied Blick and himself to the cottage. “As soon as you get to Selcaster, put Mrs. Braxfield in my room, and send Robinson at once to Mr. Crewe, asking him to come round immediately to see her. You know all the rest—I shall be back there as quickly as possible.” The cab drove away with its burden of three stolid-faced men and a highly indignant woman, and the Chief Constable took off his peaked and laced cap and wiped his forehead. “Phew!” he said. “Disagreeable business that, Blick! Now, why the deuce couldn’t that foolish woman be candid instead of behaving in a fashion calculated to arouse suspicion? A few words—a proper explanation—and we needn’t have been put to this trouble!” “She’s a determined and obstinate woman,” answered Blick reflectively. “But as far as I’m concerned no amount of explanation would have satisfied me. I haven’t the slightest doubt that it was she who threw this automatic pistol away down the badger-hole, and if that isn’t damaging to her, I don’t know what is!” “You think it’s highly probable that she shot Guy Markenmore, then?” suggested the Chief Constable.